Perfect Saturday

I believe in magic. I can be a bit Peter Pan-ish. To be unwilling to marvel—slack jawed even--at how incredibly perfect life can sometimes be would cynical. I don’t have to work at being cynical. It comes naturally. Occasionally, I suspend my disbelief and let myself go: I do believe in magic.

The day at Sitges was utterly perfect, and set the stage for yesterday. Our leisurely day started with baguettes and coffee on the terrace, under that blue, blue, blue, cloudless sky. We strolled up Montjuic, taking Connie’s favorite “secret” path and found ourselves first in a cluster of theaters that had been restored in the 1970s…up and up toward the summit where there is a Greek amphitheater, surrounded by manicured gardens, rows and rows of roses in bloom. From there, we climbed stone stairs, accompanied by soft babbles of water flowing downward toward the Placa Espanya, where the nightly light, music water spectacle takes place.

We emerged by the beautifully designed Miro Foundation and strolled on up to the Olympic Stadium and the site of the 1992 Games. Although modest compared to China’s vast Olympic enterprise, Barcelona’s “village” was as symbolic as China’s, representing Catalan’s freedom from the oppression of Franco’s dictatorship. We stopped for a coffee at the National Museum of Catalonian Art, a palace that overlooks the Plaza Espanya...and from there strolled down to CaixaForum, a free exhibition complex where Miguel Barcelo’s visually playful and inventive work is currently on view. Revered throughout Spain, he also lives in Malawi and has a long love affair with Africa, which has clearly affected his use of color and light in his painting. We left the show smiling.

But the day got better…more magical, I’d like to think…because we were going to see Pina Bausch in the evening. I started following Pina Bausch years ago at the Brooklyn Academy of Music’s “Next Wave Festival” and when I saw that her company was performing at the opera house in Barcelona, I didn’t ask any questions…I just bought the tickets. Well, it wasn’t just a dance performance by her amazing Danztheater Wuppertal, but it was a sung opera with full orchestra. The music, the dance, the costumes, the staging...It was an immersion in breathtaking beauty. Connie and I talked about it all the way home, and then we went to Wikipedia to read about Iphigenie because there’s nothing quite so convoluted as any story based on mythology, which this one is. Very twisted and very human, those gods.

The magic day ended with deep slumber and dreams of dancing.